


Tomorrow Never Knows

by musicalfreak86



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-20 20:32:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1524602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalfreak86/pseuds/musicalfreak86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Sarah's reflexes at the train station had been a little faster and she had stopped Beth from jumping? (Warnings inside)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is something that popped into my head ages ago and I'm only just now getting around to writing. I honestly have no idea at this point where it's gonna go or honestly if it's going to be finished. Just a heads-up: I'm terrible at keeping up with multi-chapter stories, but I'm gonna do my very best because Beth makes my heart hurt and I want her alive.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, other characters and ships are going to come in later. I just listed the ones that show up in the first chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: mentions of attempted suicide
> 
>  
> 
> I do not own Orphan Black or any of its characters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of attempted suicide, mentions of drug abuse  
> I don't own Orphan Black or any of the characters.

The phone clicks down with what would normally be the satisfying sound of hanging up on someone if it weren’t cutting her off from her daughter. Again. She knew when she decided to travel back here that regaining custody of Kira would not be an easy feat, especially since Mrs. S had already told her explicitly several times that she would not be granted access to her daughter while living such an “unsavory” life. On a level deep deep down beneath all the anger and resentment she has (more at herself for allowing life to take her in this direction than at Mrs. S for watching out for Kira) she is thankful that her foster mother is so protective of her daughter. It gives her confidence that she will be safe no matter who finds out about her existence.

But she is trying to change. That’s why she gave Vic the slip and traveled back here on what little money she could steal from his wallet before she ran out. She wants to be with her daughter and to change her life around so Kira won’t have to grow up the same way she did. Although Mrs. S provided Sarah and Felix with a safe and loving (if not somewhat strict) childhood, she knows firsthand what it is like to grow up knowing that your parents did not want you. She doesn’t want Kira to have any question in her mind as to whether or not she is loved by her mother. 

She wants to kick the phone off of its mounting in her frustration but opts instead for calling Felix. He will be able to talk her down and maybe even help talk Mrs. S down as well. Vandalism is not the answer at this point, and she knows that calling Mrs. S and giving her a piece of her mind isn’t the answer either. With an aggravated sigh she scrounges in her pockets for more loose change but is distracted from her task when she hears soft crying coming from the other end of the platform. 

She looks up to see a young woman in business attire pacing back and forth with her back turned to Sarah. She looks troubled, but Sarah has enough of her own troubles at the moment. She doesn’t have the time to think about anyone else when Kira is on her mind. 

Her hands move from pocket to pocket and when they continually come up empty she wants to curse the world. All this way. She came all this way just for her money to run out at this godforsaken train station. No pay phone money means to taxi money either. She lets out another shaky sigh and steels herself for the long walk to her foster brother’s loft apartment. She isn’t afraid of the streets, though the area he lives in is not exactly the safest. She has never been afraid of the streets, but she isn’t looking forward to taking this walk. Not after the shit her evening has already turned out to be. And Felix doesn’t even know she is here, so once she gets to his apartment she is very likely to walk in on something that will make her want to bleach her eyeballs. 

Before she can turn and walk away she steals one more glance at the woman at the other end of the platform. She has stopped crying and is instead doing something that even Sarah finds strange. She appears to be removing her clothes. She folds her jacket neatly and gently lays it on top of her pumps, standing in stocking feet on the rough concrete surface of the platform. 

Sarah finds herself genuinely worried now. She is all too familiar with the “jumpers” that haunt the train stations when life simply becomes too much to bear. She has never seen one in person, but if there was ever a situation like that being presented to her it’s this one. 

“Oi,” she says, stepping closer. She isn’t one to meddle in the private affairs of other people, but she finds it even against her own conscience to let this young woman get away with something this extreme without at least trying to do _something_. She _is_ trying to turn her life around after all. “Are you alright?”

The other woman doesn’t seem to hear her, or maybe she is too preoccupied with her own mental state, much like Sarah has been up until this point. It isn’t until Sarah reaches out and grabs the crook of her elbow that she turns and Sarah feels all the breath leave her lungs as though she has been punched in the stomach. 

She’s looking in a fucking mirror. This woman could be her twin. This woman _is_ her twin for all she knows. Sure, her higher class, more sophisticated twin, but her twin nonetheless. Her mind refuses to catch up with her eyes and fully process what she is seeing. 

“Who the bloody hell...?” she begins, frozen to the spot by the sight of her own face mirrored in this woman. But there is no sign of recognition, not even a spark to signal that this other woman has even registered the sight of her own face on as ragged a body as Sarah’s. 

In fact, there’s no spark at all. Only dead eyes looking back at her as her mind desperately struggles to catch up with what she is taking in. Although her mind is busy processing through the shock and she feels vaguely numb and tingly all over, one thought is clear above the rest. 

This is the face of a woman who has given up. 

Sarah recognizes this because she has seen it before, many times. It’s something she knows well, even if her mind can’t register the fact that she is looking at what seems to be her twin sister. 

Before she realizes it, the look-a-like has pulled from her grasp and is walking straight toward the oncoming train. Sarah’s breath catches in her throat and time seems to slow down. She hadn’t even heard the train approaching. And here’s this woman, this woman who looks just like her, and she’s about to run headlong into a speeding train. 

Time is still moving in slow motion, but she knows one thing. 

She can’t let this happen. 

With reflexes that are fast from her life on the run with Vic she leaps forward and catches the woman hard across the waist. Using her entire body weight as leverage, she jerks her back, the breath leaving her body audibly as they both collapse onto the platform. 

“Oh my God,” Sarah wheezes, her twin’s body weight having landed fully on top of her. “Oh my God.” She is slightly dazed from the impact but doesn’t let go of the other woman. She feels limp in her arms but Sarah doesn’t trust her not to jump up and try again. She keeps them both down until the train has safely passed. 

“Holy shite,” she mutters, extracting herself from underneath the mostly still woman. She pulls herself up onto her knees and looks down at her. She is breathing slow and deep, staring up at the wooden roof that covers the railway map they are next to. “Are you alright?” The woman doesn’t answer and Sarah leans closer. “Holy shite,” she repeats. “You’ve got a right cocktail in you I’ll bet.” She waves a hand in front of her twin’s face but her gaze remains unfocused. Her pupils are blown, something else Sarah is all too familiar with, and she shakes her head. How she was even up and walking is beyond her. 

Suddenly she registers that there is a phone ringing from inside the other woman’s purse. While normally she wouldn’t go rummaging through a stranger’s bag she figures that the regular rules don’t exactly apply to this situation. She extracts a bright pink phone and rolls her eyes at the color before pressing the answer button. 

“Hello?” she says.

“Beth!” calls a harsh, agitated voice from the other end. Sarah winces a little at the abrasiveness of it. “Where the hell are you? Why haven’t you been answering my calls?”

“Aah,” she says, glancing down at the woman with dead eyes. _Beth_. She figures they’re lucky they haven’t drawn a crowd by this point. “Yeah, I’m not Beth. Something’s happened. I dunno if she’ll talk but...” She is cut off when the line abruptly goes dead. She looks down at the screen, noting that the number is not programmed into the phone and so doesn’t have a name to go along with it. 

She is very tempted to hit redial and give this person a piece of her mind. This woman just tried to kill herself for goodness sake and her friend can’t stay on the line long enough to find out what really happened to her? Before she can make the decision the phone buzzes to life in her hands again. She answers on the second ring. “Oi! Did you just hang up on me?” She doesn’t even know the person on the other end, but she has little tolerance for being hung up on. 

“Sorry,” comes the voice from the other end. It sounds similar, but Sarah can tell from the inflection that she is speaking to a different person than before. “Just one, I’m a few. No family too. Who am I?”

Sarah pauses, wondering if she heard right. “What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” the voice on the other line says quickly, almost as though she wants Sarah to forget she even heard it. There’s a slight pause and she thinks she can hear another voice. “Look, I don’t know you, but I have no choice but to trust you for now. Where are you?”

“Huxley Station,” Sarah replies without missing a beat. She doesn’t have a clue what’s happening, but for some reason it feels natural just to go along with it. If nothing else it will take her mind off of her situation with Mrs. S for just a few moments, which is what she had been looking for anyway. “Your friend...she—she tried to jump.”

There’s a shallow intake of breath on the other end of the line and another long pause. “And you stopped her?”

“Yeah, of course I bloody did!” Sarah replies, feeling a little agitated herself. Whoever this is on the other end of the phone is sounding way too calm about this whole situation. “I barely caught her. She almost made it off the platform.” The reality of the situation begins to set in and Sarah is surprised to find that she is shaking just slightly. 

“Do you have a car?”

“No,” Sarah replies, once again mourning the fact. There is more murmuring on the other end of the line.

“Ok,” says the voice. She sounds as though she is trying to sort the whole mess out in her head before speaking. For this Sarah doesn’t blame her. It’s definitely a mess. “Ok, I’m going to call you a cab. Just get Beth here. Leave the fee to me. Just—just keep her alive, ok?”

“Yeah,” Sarah replies, looking down at the still form lying on the platform. “Yeah, got it covered.” It shouldn’t be too trying a task. 

*****

Sarah has no issue getting Beth into the taxi that finally shows up at the train station. After being saved from a situation she did not want to be saved from the woman seems to have gone into a semi-catatonic state, for which Sarah is grateful. She is tempted to snap her fingers in front of her face but figures that she’ll be easier to deal with in this state.

She doesn’t know where they are going. As soon as they get in the taxi speeds off in the haphazard way that taxis do, and Sarah is too busy trying to put a seat belt on the silent woman sitting next to her to pay much attention. By the time she looks out the window she has no idea where they are. 

Finally they pull into a suburban neighborhood. Sarah stares out the window as sterile house after sterile house flash by outside. She begins to wonder what the hell she has gotten herself into but before she can think long the taxi slows to a stop in front of a house that looks exactly the same as all the rest. 

She’s barely opened the door of the taxi before the door to the house is thrown open. “Beth!” comes a voice of which the owner is still silhouetted from the flood of light that came from the inside of the house. The woman runs out and stops dead at the sight of the two standing by the taxi. For a moment Sarah thinks it’s because of the look on her friend’s face—that dead-eyed look that Sarah herself is still unnerved by. But then she gets a closer look at the woman who appears to be a soccer mom. 

She’s looking into her own face once again. Sure, this woman has a different haircut and wears a horrendous amount of pink (all of a sudden she’s certain this woman is responsible for the pink phone), but she unmistakably wears the same face. Before Sarah can even open her mouth to ask (or more like demand) an explanation for what the hell is going on a third copy emerges from the house. This one has dreadlocks and wears glasses and Sarah is about to lose it. 

“Oh shit,” the glasses twin says, eyes going wide. “Another one. We didn’t know about you.”

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Sarah asks loudly and abruptly, making the soccer mom twin jump and shush her harshly. She takes a nervous glance around the neighborhood, which seems silent, and moves quickly to put an arm around Beth’s waist and guide her inside, leaving Sarah to stare at her glasses twin. 

“Look man, I know this is weird,” she says. She’s holding her hands up defensively as she eases around Sarah to pay the taxi driver. “I think...maybe you should just come inside.”

*****

The scene playing out in front of Sarah is completely unreal. She’s sitting on a chair in the basement of what seems to be her soccer mom twin’s house. Her soccer mom twin is easing her suicidal twin down onto the couch across from her as her glasses twin hovers, looking a little nervous. 

As sensitive a moment as it is, she can’t help herself in asking, “So I can’t be the only one that notices this, right?” She gestures between the four of them. The soccer mom twin determinedly avoids her eye but her glasses twin sighs before putting a hand up to push her glasses higher on her nose. 

“It’s...not easy to explain,” she says, making nervous motions with her hands as though she is trying to find the right words. “There’s not really an easy or short way to put it—”

“We’re clones. We’re someone’s experiment and they’re killing us off!”

Sarah finds herself taken aback by the soccer mom’s outburst, finding that for the first time that evening she has nothing to say. She realizes that the woman must be under a lot of pressure right now, but this is the last thing she had been expecting. Her mouth opens and closes a few times, but before she can formulate words there’s another unexpected sound that breaks her train of thought. 

Over on the sofa Beth, who has remained eerily silent ever since Sarah yanked her away from the train, has broken down. Her face is buried in her hands and the sobs that wrack her body are gut wrenching. Her dreadlocked twin looks unsettled at the sight, confirming Sarah’s assumption that this is not a reaction that would normally come from the woman. 

The soccer mom, on the other hand, rushes to her side. She wraps an arm around her and while Beth’s sobbing does not subside, she does lean into the touch, almost as though it’s second nature. The soccer mom glares at the two sitting across from her.

“You’re lucky Donnie and the kids aren’t here,” she tells them, her voice low and menacing. Sarah figures the anger is mostly directed at her and finds it unfair, being that she is the one that snatched her twin (clone? Could they really be _clones?_ ) from the jaws of death and isn’t even the one making noise. 

It takes a few minutes, but eventually the distraught woman is coaxed off of the couch and into another room that Sarah can’t see. The soccer mom shoots her one last glare as they go. 

“Bloody hell,” Sarah murmurs, watching the door shut behind them. She turns to look at the other woman, who is still visibly shaken. “Clones?”

“Sorry. I wanted to float that whole clone thing a lot softer,” she shakes her head and reaches out a hand for Sarah to shake. “I’m Cosima. Try not to mind Alison. She’s just...well when it comes to Beth—” She sighs, seemingly unable to gather her thoughts properly. “It’s scary. For her to have done that. To try to kill herself.” She looks at the door that Alison and Beth retreated through. “She’s always seemed like the strong one.” She pauses for a moment, seemingly lost in thought before she looks at Sarah again, a small smile playing on her lips. “Welcome to the trip man.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Sarah's reflexes at the train station had been a little faster and she had stopped Beth from jumping? (Warnings inside)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of attempted suicide, mentions of drug abuse  
> I do not own Orphan Black or any of its characters.

“How can we be clones?”

Sarah sits on the couch in the basement room facing two women who wear faces identical to her own. There’s a steaming cup of tea in her hands, courtesy of Alison. The mug rests against her jean clad legs and the warmth seeps through the fabric until it almost burns, but Sarah doesn’t move. She finds that she needs something, _anything_ , to ground her, and the slight pain that is radiating through the thin fabric of her pants will have to do for now. 

“We’re not sure,” Cosima says, nursing her own mug of tea and sitting across from Sarah. She stares down into the drink as though all of her answers lay at the bottom. “A few months ago Beth was contacted by a German woman named Katja Obinger. She told some story about how her ‘genetic identicals’ were being hunted across Europe—”

“Wait. Did you say hunted?” Sarah asks, looking between Cosima and Alison, who is determinedly avoiding her gaze from the other end of the sofa. “What do you mean hunted?”

Cosima sighs, staring down into her tea again. “There were three other clones in Europe that we know of. And according to Katja they were all assassinated. Danielle Fournier, Janika Zingler, and Aryanna Giordano. Katja was able to give their names, but that was about it. We don’t know anything else about them and Katja was afraid to give too much information over the phone.”

“And where is Katja now?” Sarah asks, dreading the answer. 

“She’s alive. Or at least, last we heard she was alive,” Cosima replies, giving Alison a sideways glance. Alison’s body language is screaming that she isn’t comfortable with this conversation but Sarah can’t find it within herself to care. “She said she wanted to come here to get away from the danger over in Europe, but we haven’t heard from her since. She was going to bring us—” She stops abruptly at a sharp look from Alison. Sarah rolls her eyes. 

“Look, I know I have an accent and everything, but I’m not your assassin, yeah?” She says impatiently. “Why the bloody hell would one of us want to kill us? If there even is an us.” She looks back to Cosima. “What is she bringing?”

“Blood samples,” she replies, not missing a beat but also not catching Alison’s eye. “She’s sick, or at least, that’s what she told Beth. She was looking for help and when Beth found me we made a deal that if she brought me blood samples I would try to find her a cure, or at least some answers, while researching who we are.”

“So you’re some kind of scientist then? How did Beth find you?” Sarah finds that the questions just keep coming and she almost can’t decide what to ask first. She doesn’t want to believe a word that is coming out of this woman’s mouth, but it’s hard not to when speaking with two people who look exactly the same as her. 

“PHD student. Experimental Evolutionary Developmental Biology,” Cosima rattles off and Sarah nods, pretending to know what that is. “When Katja contacted Beth she ran facial recognition software on drivers’ licenses here in the U.S. and found us.” She gestures between herself and Alison. Cocking her head she says, “We didn’t know about you though.”

“Yeah, I’ve been a bit out of the loop,” Sarah says evasively, waving her hand in a dismissive way. She notes the look on Cosima’s face and hurries on. “Why would Beth want to kill herself? Isn’t she a cop?” She tries to remember all that Cosima has told her.

Cosima opens her mouth to reply but Alison cuts her off. 

“That is none of your business,” she hisses. Her grip on her own mug of tea is intense, knuckles turning white. “We shouldn’t be giving her any information,” she says, rounding on Cosima. “We don’t even know her. Beth wouldn’t want—”

“Alison.”

The three of them whip around at the sound of a tired voice coming from the doorway. Beth is leaning heavily against the doorframe, looking at Alison with red-rimmed eyes. Alison jumps up and quickly moves towards Beth, who waves her off.

“Monitors,” she says quietly as Alison hovers nearby looking as though she desperately wants to do something but doesn’t know what. Beth takes a few shaky steps into the room and Cosima gets up from her chair so Beth can sit down. She sinks into the chair, looking exhausted and weary of life. Sarah eyes her, thinking that these other two are going to have to keep a close eye on her because she still looks as though she would try to pull something. 

Alison sits down cautiously on the arm of her chair, looking a little nervous that she would be pushed away again. Beth reaches out and takes her hand in her own, letting Alison pull it into her lap and cradle it there. Sarah can see the woman relax just a tiny bit with the contact, but in a moment her eyes find Sarah’s and the look in them is intense, even though she looks beaten down. Sarah holds her gaze until she speaks again. 

“What are monitors?” she asks, feeling Alison’s stare but ignoring it. This overprotective woman can kiss her ass for all she cares. Beth also seems to ignore the tension that is coming off of Alison in waves. 

“Exactly what the name suggests,” Beth replies. “They monitor us. They watch to make sure we don’t run away or do something stupid. They keep us grounded. And they run tests on us.”

“Yours sure did do a shit job then,” Sarah says. She knows that she is being too blunt, but she has never been one to utilize a brain to mouth filter. Alison lets out an angry sound and even Cosima tenses, but Beth just looks at her as though she is reading her like a book. After a long moment she allows a small, amused smile to slip through and gives Sarah a tiny nod. Sarah smiles back and decides that if Beth doesn’t manage to off herself after all the two of them are going to get along just fine. 

“What kind of tests do you mean?” Cosima asks, breaking the silence. Beth shakes her head. 

“I don’t know,” she says. She rolls up her sleeve and shows Cosima her arm. All three of them lean closer to look at the needle marks on the inside of her elbow. 

“Blood tests,” Cosima says, running a finger over the marks. “They could have done a transfusion or injected you with something. Do you feel any different after they run one of these tests?”

“Cos, I’ve been feeling like shit for weeks,” Beth replies quietly, not meeting Cosima’s eye. “I wouldn’t know the difference.” She shakes the quiet moment off and turns to address Sarah.

“You probably don’t have a monitor at this point,” she says, rolling the sleeve of her dress back down. “You might,” she says to Cosima. “But since you just got to a new school you might be safe.” She sighs, looking up at Alison who is still perched on the arm of her chair. “Ali, I’m going to be honest with you. If I had to bet on your monitor I’d bet on Donnie.”

“Donnie,” Alison says, alarm creeping into her voice. “But I’ve known Donnie since high school. How can he be my monitor?”

Beth shakes her head. “They go for whoever is closest to the test subject.” Her eyes grow soft as she looks at Alison. “Can you think of anyone closer to you?” Alison looks like she doesn’t want to answer the question and Beth squeezes her hand. “There are plenty of ways they could have gotten to him, especially with the business trips he takes. I’m sorry.”

“Who is they?” Sarah asks, cutting into their moment. All the information is circling through her head as she tries to grasp at it and make some sort of sense out of _anything_.

“I don’t know,” Beth says. “That would be the next step, finding out who they’re working for and subsequently who it is that is interested in us.”

“And who created us and why,” Cosima breaks in, latching onto the scientific side of things. Sarah is about to ask another question when a phone rings and they all jump. It’s Beth’s phone and Sarah notices for the first time that she has two. Beth picks it up off the table and looks at it, giving a watery sigh. 

“It’s my partner,” she says, dropping her head into her hands and letting the phone drop back onto the table where it stops ringing. “I have a hearing tomorrow and he thinks I’m bailing.”

“Which you tried to do,” Sarah points out, earning herself another Alison glare. She’s becoming immune by this point. “It’s the truth,” she says, getting irritated. She stands up from her seat, Cosima’s eyes following her nervously. She moves to stand in front of the arm chair that Beth is sitting in, leaning over and bracing a hand on either arm, getting in the other woman’s space. 

“Look,” she says, leaning in close. “I know that this is shit. I’ve just gotten thrown into it headfirst and it’s shit. But you’re not the only one dealing with it. You have three clones in Europe already dead. You have one who risked her ass to get you lot blood samples and _she’s_ dying. Cosima over here is trying to become a bloody doctor while dealing with this mess, and this one just found out that her husband is probably running tests on her.” Beth looks up, standing her ground and not backing away despite the tears that are gathering in her eyes. “It’s shit, but you’re not alone. They need you,” she glances up at Alison, who is looking at the scene with a mix of horror and awe on her face. “And I’m pretty sure they love you. Now are you gonna buck up and get your shit together and help, or are we gonna have to watch you to stop you from offing yourself. Cause I did it once and we can do it again, but it would be a hell of a lot easier if we didn’t have to.”

The phone begins ringing again and Sarah glances over at it quickly before looking back at Beth. “What’s it gonna be? Are you in?” Beth hesitates a moment before nodding and Sarah snatches the phone up off the table. “What do you do anyway?” she asks, Cosima never having given her a straight answer earlier.

“I’m a cop,” Beth says, eyeing the phone in her hands. 

“Shite,” Sarah breathes, thinking of all the things she’s done in the past that could have (and have) gotten her arrested. She glances at the screen and mouths 'Art’ before pressing the answer button. Beth makes a halfhearted move in her direction before letting her head fall into her hands again. 

“Hello?” she says, taking on Beth’s accent. “Hey Art. No. Christ, no, I’m not running.” There’s silence on Sarah’s end for a few moments and she begins moving around the room, opening doors as she goes. Alison moves to get up and stop her but Beth pulls her back down, watching Sarah like a hawk. Sarah looks into the craft room and a broom closet before finding the bathroom and stepping inside. “Look, I’ve got the stomach flu. It’s not an excuse! Yeah, I’ll come in and vomit on them, sound good to you?” She reaches over and flushes the toilet for good measure, making sure that the phone is close enough that Art can hear. “We have to reschedule. I’m out of commission, man! We have no choice. I’m gonna go spend the rest of the night in the bathroom now. Yeah, thanks. Bye Art.”

Sarah hangs up and drops the phone into the surprised cop’s lap. “Problem solved,” she says, slipping back into her own accent. “You’re good, yeah? Back in, staying in the land of the living, all that?” She looks at Beth with an expectant expression. “Cause you’re gonna have to deal with Art eventually, and he didn’t sound too pleased.”

“Yeah,” Beth says in a slightly shaky voice. The surprise on her face at someone she only just met caring so much is evident and Sarah gives her a small smile. “Thank you.”

Sarah sits down, feeling Cosima’s impressed gaze but ignoring it for the time being. “No problem. Is there anything else? Not that this hasn’t been plenty.”

“I need to meet Katja,” Beth sighs, picking up the pink phone and scrolling through the texts that have been coming in from the German clone. “She arrives tomorrow afternoon and she brought the samples.”

“Good, because I leave to go back tomorrow night,” Cosima says, relief evident in her voice.

“Go back where?” Sarah asks.

“University of Minnesota. It’s where I’m studying. And I need those samples to take back with me to the lab. Do you want me to go get them?” She asks Beth, who shakes her head.

“No, I can go. I arranged it and she’s expecting me. She’s already wary of tricks.”

“By tomorrow afternoon I’m betting that you’ll be going through some bloody heavy withdrawals. Am I wrong?” Sarah says, and Beth drops her head again. “Not to be pushy or anything, but you did say you’re back with us now. Which means that by this time tomorrow you should be going through some withdrawals, if you get what I mean?” Sarah finishes pointedly and Beth nods at her lap. “In that case, I’ll go.”

“She’s expecting me,” Beth says, beginning to sound exhausted. “She’s more frightened and confused than any of us, and with good reason. Unless...”

“What?” Sarah asks, not liking the look on Beth’s face.

“Be me,” she says, eyes wide. “Be me and meet Katja. You already fooled Art.”

“Over the phone!” Sarah says, not liking this idea at all. “We have the same face, yeah. But that’s it Beth. I don’t know how to be a cop.”

“You don’t have to be,” Beth replies. She digs around in her purse until she finds a set of keys. “Just put on some of my clothes. Paul’s not home this weekend, so you don’t even have to deal with him. And take my car.”

“Beth,” Sarah says, her heart dropping. “Beth, you shouldn’t—you shouldn’t trust me.” She finds herself regretting her past and her fight or flight instincts, which usually mean stealing from people to get by. This woman seems to think that she can let her into her life without even knowing her. It seems naive for a cop to trust so readily, especially when Sarah doesn’t even trust herself. 

“Sarah, you saved my life,” Beth says, standing up from the chair and pressing the keys into her hands. “I don’t know you, but you didn’t let me make a stupid and permanent mistake. I do trust you.”

Sarah takes the keys, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “Who is Paul?” She asks in lieu of saying anything else.

“He’s—he’s my monitor,” she says. There’s a small intake of breath from Alison, who has been uncharacteristically quiet all this time. Cosima makes a sympathetic sound and Sarah senses that there is more to Paul than they are letting on. But she doesn’t ask questions. Instead she nods. 

“I’ll meet Katja. As you,” she says.

“And I’ll owe you,” Beth replies. “In fact, I owe you a lot.” She looks to Cosima. “My car is parked at—at Huxley station,” she says, tripping over the name of the place where she tried to end her life only hours before. “Can you take her?”

“Yeah man,” Cosima says, getting up and finding her bag. As she rummages around for her keys Beth addresses Sarah one more time. 

“Be careful,” she says. “Don’t get caught. If they catch you they’re going to assign you a monitor and then you’re in the same deep shit as the rest of us. Stay under the radar.”

“That’s what I’m good at,” Sarah says. Beth hands her the obnoxious pink phone.

“For now, you’re me. If anything comes through that’s not Katja, call Alison. If anything else happens, call Alison. We’ll be waiting by her phone. And we’ll get you your own if you decide to stick with us after this. I hope you will,” she hesitates for a moment and extends her hand for Sarah to shake. Sarah pulls her in for a hug instead.

“Take care,” she says. She’s not normally a hugging person, but after everything that has happened tonight she feels like the cop is a special exception.

“I’ll be fine,” Beth replies. “It’s you that I’m worried about.”

“Don’t be.” She follows Cosima out the door. As she turns to push it shut she sees Beth cross back over to the arm chair. Alison hands Beth her own pink phone and Beth takes it and puts it down on the table in front of them. She sits down and pulls Alison off the arm of the chair and into her lap, holding her tightly and burying her face in her hair.

“Who’s Paul?” Sarah asks Cosima as she slides into the passenger seat of the car. The scientist is writing something out on a card.

“Her boyfriend,” she says, handing the card to Sarah. It has an address on it. “Or, not anymore I guess. That’s Beth’s address. I know she says he’s out of town, but watch out for him when you get there, ok? He probably doesn’t know that she knows and it needs to stay that way, at least for now.” She gives Sarah a sympathetic smile. “You ready for this?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” she replies. “I can do this.”

Cosima doesn’t look so sure, and the feeling is not reassuring to Sarah. When Sarah remains quiet Cosima starts the car and pulls away from Alison’s house, the gravel crunching under her tires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! I actually sat down the other day and wrote out how I want this to end, so now I've got a little direction. But it's a long road till we get there, so make yourselves comfortable. ;)  
> (Also, I don't know why two sets of notes are showing up for this chapter. I'm still figuring this website out and it's doing something weird...)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah meets Paul and Katja.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to say that I'm not entirely pleased with this chapter, but then I realized that I've said that for every one so far. So instead, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: I don't think there are any major warnings for this chapter. But as always when Beth is involved there may be mentions of drug abuse and suicide.
> 
> I do not own Orphan Black or any of its characters.

The drive to the train station is strangely silent. Cosima had struck Sarah as the talkative type even though she had remained relatively quiet during the conversation with Beth. Sarah had expected to be bombarded with questions about herself and why they hadn't known about her before, but the scientist seems lost within her own thoughts, practically operating on autopilot as she drives. Sarah finds this vaguely terrifying, but figures it’s safer not to say anything. 

Going back to the train station feels surreal. Sarah knows that it has only been a few hours since she arrived here with an entirely different agenda, but if feels like it has been years. In just the span of an evening her entire life has been turned upside down. All she had wanted was to come back for Kira and Felix and start trying to make a life for the three of them. A real life that doesn't involve con jobs and running. But suddenly she has a responsibility to these other people, these people who look exactly like her _(clones, though she still has issues with believing that)._

She knows that if she wants to she can leave all this behind. She can pretend that she never saw Beth on the platform and that she had never saved her and gone to Alison’s house. She can pretend that she never made a promise to the women who share her face. 

But somewhere deep down she knows that that isn't possible. She knows that she can’t make herself forget no matter how hard she tries. And so now she finds herself in a strange position, feeling obligated to both her daughter as well as her genetic identicals, if that’s truly what they are. 

“Here we are,” Cosima says, slowing down. Sarah is snapped out of her thoughts and looks around. She shudders when she sees the platform, thinking of how exhausted Beth looked when they left Alison’s house and of the horrors that surely still await the suicidal woman. Sarah finds herself a little uncomfortable thinking about taking on any part of Beth’s life. Beth had wanted to end things for a reason after all. All Sarah can hope is that she can get in and out quickly without taking on too much of this new life. She is concerned for the others but in all honesty just wants to get to her daughter. 

“I don’t see her—oh. No, there it is,” Cosima points and Sarah looks in the direction she is pointing. Beth’s car is parked on the side of the street, the only one left at the station. Sarah cringes again inwardly, picturing Beth parking her car and leaving it there as she walked into the train station with the intention of never coming back to it. As much as she wants to deny it there’s something that connects her to this sad woman and she hasn't yet figured out what it is. Cosima is alright, if not a little too brainy for Sarah’s liking, and Alison is annoying with her high strung ways. But there’s something about Beth that Sarah just _gets_. She knows that it’s absurd, after only knowing the woman for a few hours. Maybe that’s what happens when you save someone’s life. If nothing else comes from this little mission Sarah hopes that she can ease some of the strain that the other woman is feeling. 

“Thanks Cosima,” Sarah says, getting out of the car. She leans back down before she closes the door, feeling like she should say something else but not knowing quite what, and notices that the scientist looks strained. 

“Just be careful, ok?” Cosima says. Sarah realizes that Cosima had a bomb dropped on her tonight as well. _Monitors._ The anxiety is written all over her face and suddenly Sarah feels a little bad for her. 

“I’ll be fine,” she says, trying her best to be reassuring, though she doesn't even fully believe herself. She’s never been good at reassuring people, except when it comes to Kira. “This is kind of what I do. Don’t worry, I’m good.” She knows that she is probably coming across as a little cocky, but she doesn't care. Cosima nods but doesn't look convinced. “I’ll call Alison tomorrow when I have the briefcase. Then I can give it to you before you leave, yeah?”

“Ok,” Cosima says, forcing a smile onto her face though her hands are tight on the steering wheel. Sarah almost feels like she should reach out and pat the other woman on the shoulder or something, but opts instead for just shutting the door and giving her an awkward little wave.

*****

Beth’s car is probably the nicest one Sarah has ever been in. It also probably costs more than Sarah’s entire lifestyle, and for a moment she finds herself resenting the cop a little. Why would she try to kill herself when she has such an enviable life? Sarah forces the thought away quickly, feeling a little guilty. There’s more to life than possessions and she knows that. But there are still times when she wishes that her life were a little easier, and she knows that having money would help her problems tremendously.

She puts the car into gear and backs away from the station. She is more than glad to leave it behind even though she knows that she is driving into more mystery and confusion. She is harshly reminded of the fact when she realizes that she doesn't have to adjust anything in the car in order to drive it comfortably. She normally wouldn't think twice about it. There are plenty of people who she wouldn't have to adjust to, but she knows that the reason she can drive Beth’s car so easily is because they are exactly the same size. If Cosima is speaking the truth, they are the exact same everything. Sarah shudders and flips on the radio to drown out her own thoughts. 

It seems that Sarah remembers the area better than she thought because the drive to Beth’s apartment is easy and short. Before she knows it she is standing at her front door trying different keys and cursing at the fact that she didn't ask her which one went to her front door. 

Finally she finds the right key and pushes the door open. “Hello?” she calls out as she flips on the light, just to be sure. After a moment of silence she relaxes a little. After Cosima’s warning she finds herself a little worried that Paul would be home after all, and she doesn't think she is prepared for that. 

She puts the keys and her bag down on a table and wanders through the apartment. It is very sparsely decorated, almost feeling empty. She makes a mental note to give Beth hell for her taste in interior decorating if they ever get to that point of friendship, despite the fact that she herself knows practically nothing about the topic. She flips on a few more lights as she moves through the apartment, still feeling a little uneasy. Normally she wouldn't feel this way at all, but after the events of the evening she is feeling more and more antsy. She still can’t fully process what is happening. 

Despite the lack of furniture and other decoration there are photographs everywhere. They are in frames on the counter tops and stuck on the refrigerator with magnets. She looks at them closely, deciding that the man featured heavily in them with Beth must be Paul. In most of them Beth looks so happy. It’s such a difference from the tired looking woman she had been speaking to only about an hour ago. 

She opens the refrigerator and grabs a beer, assuming that Beth wouldn't mind. She did say she would owe her after all, and a beer seems like a small sacrifice. She wanders through the rest of the kitchen, shuffling absentmindedly through some papers that are spread out on the counter. Suddenly one catches her eye and she clumsily sets the bottle down without looking. 

She looks closely and realizes that it’s a bank statement for seventy-five thousand dollars in a new account. Her heart skips a beat at the sight of so much money practically lying there in front of her and her mind begins spinning. 

The only reason she had come back here was to get Kira and Felix and make a new life for the three of them. That was all she had wanted. She hadn't asked to get wrapped up in this whole clone thing, and she truly doesn't have any obligation to them. She stares at the statement and realizes that if she really set her mind to it she could take this money and clear out before the others even realize what happened. 

She looks for a moment longer, fighting with herself before shaking her head and putting the paper down as Beth’s face flashes across her memory. She can’t steal the money and run. She tells herself again what she has told herself several times over the course of the evening when wanting to back out. _‘You’re trying to turn your life around. You’re trying to set an example for Kira.’_ She shoves the paper into a drawer and turns her back, wandering into the rest of the house.

She moves into the bedroom next, looking into Beth’s closet and noting all the nice clothes. Nice car. Nice apartment. Nice clothes. She feels the same surge of jealousy once again and tamps it down. She’s trying to help this woman, not get jealous and do something rash. She remembers the haggard expression that Beth wore while they talked and the way she trusted her so quickly just because she had pulled her away from the train. 

Sarah moves back into the kitchen, looking for a phone and feeling more than a little disgusted with herself. She needs to call Felix, both because he doesn't even know that she is back in town yet and also because she needs a distraction. If she is going to stay here all night she needs something to take away the itch in her fingertips and the desire in her legs to run and not look back. She thinks about using the pink phone that Beth gave her, but she knows that the phone is supposed to be used only for clone business. 

Clone business. That sounds so strange in her head. 

She spots an old corded phone on the wall and picks it up, relieved when it connects. She makes another note to give Beth hell for this one too before dialing the number she knows by heart even after all this time, holding her breath in the hopes that her foster brother picks up. 

“‘Lo?” she hears on the other end.

“Fee!” she exclaims, relief evident in her voice. 

“Sarah?” Felix asks. “God, Sarah, where are you? Has something happened?”

“I’m here Fee,” Sarah says, breathing out a sigh and sitting down on one of the bar stools in Beth’s kitchen. “I’m here, but God, you won’t believe what’s happened.”

*****

Sarah wakes up early the next morning. It takes her a moment to fully wake up and remember where she is, but soon the memories from the night before come rushing back and she groans, clutching her head. She had half been hoping that it was all just a nightmare. A very elaborate, detailed nightmare.

“Beth?”

Sarah sits bold upright in the bed, sending out a silent thank you to whatever may be listening that she had brushed out her braided hair the night before and decided to sleep fully clothed. The sound of the door opening must have woken her up.

“In here,” she calls, in Beth’s accent, clearing her throat. Every instinct in her body is telling her to fight her way out of the situation and run, but she knows better. She reminds herself that she is playing Beth and that Paul is not supposed to know that she knows he is her monitor. She groans again internally, wishing that she had never met Beth and then immediately kicking herself because if she hadn't met her Beth would be dead. 

She climbs out of the bed just as Paul enters the bedroom. She recognizes him immediately from the pictures scattered around the apartment. He gives her a once over and frowns as his eyes land on her shirt. 

“The Clash?” he asks, and Sarah bristles immediately, not appreciating his condescending tone of voice. 

“Yeah,” she says, glancing down at the old, beat up shirt she had thrown on to sleep in and trying not to let her tone betray how she is feeling. “London Calling. The Clash rock.” She cringes a little when her accent slips and lowers her eyes to avoid Paul’s confused look.

“Yeah, but you don’t,” he replies. Sarah’s head snaps up, mouth falling open a little before she remembers who she is supposed to be and covers her actions. Was this how he spoke to Beth all the time? The little snide remarks and veiled put downs? She thought back to the night before, to the way Beth had looked when they were talking and the way Alison had been so concerned for her. She would bet anything right now that Alison had stayed up all night just to be sure Beth was still breathing. Suddenly she feels a little softer toward the irritating soccer mom and hopes that Beth remains under her care instead of coming back here, though she knows that would take some intricate and probably unrealistic planning.

She walks over to the closet, choosing to ignore Paul’s comment. “I thought you weren't coming home until the weekend,” she says, her tone clipped. She hopes Paul doesn't notice. _She_ is irritated, but she has the feeling that Beth learned to blow these comments off ages ago. The idea makes her sad for the cop.

“I wanted to be here for you,” he replies, moving closer to where she is standing. She is beginning to feel trapped between him and the small walk-in closet, something that she acknowledges as bad because it triggers her instinct to fight. She battles with the tension that has suddenly found its way into her muscles, telling herself that Beth wouldn't react this way to someone she has been living with. “I wanted to be here when you got back from the hearing.”

_Fuck. The hearing._ Sarah had almost forgotten about the hearing and the excuse she had given Art the night before. On top of everything else the short phone conversation had slipped her mind, but she finds herself glad for the excuse to get away from Paul. “Oh. Right,” she says, grabbing a grey dress from a coat hanger. “Yeah, I need to get going.” She slips past him into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. 

She releases a breath, sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet. The pink phone is still on the counter where she left it the night before and she picks it up. There are several new messages from Katja asking where she is and when they can meet. She opens a new message, fully intending to text Alison’s phone and warn her and Beth that Paul is back. She thinks better of it after a moment and closes the message, instead telling Katja to meet her by the river in twenty minutes. She had been planning to meet the German woman at the apartment but now that Paul is back she knows that that is not an option.

She quickly slips into the grey dress, very purposely ignoring the fact that it fits like a glove. She brushes her teeth and makes a brave attempt at getting the snags out of her hair. Once she feels that she is semi-presentable as Beth she opens the door. 

Paul tries to intercept her again at the front door but she pushes him away, snapping at him that she is going to be late for the hearing. He looks at her in a way that makes her realize that she missed the mark a little, so she kisses him on the cheek before shutting the door behind her.

*****

Sitting in the car by the river makes Sarah uncomfortable. She knows that she chose a relatively abandoned area but can’t help but feel like she is being watched. _‘It’s just nerves,’_ she tells herself, over and over again as she watches the clock and waits for another car to pull up. She is beginning to wonder if Katja got confused and went to the wrong place, especially if she is unfamiliar with the area.

She is just pulling out the pink phone to text the German clone when the back door opens and a figure slips into the backseat. Sarah jumps a mile and turns around, not having expected the woman to actually get in the car with her, though it is less conspicuous and makes more sense.

Katja has short, dyed red hair and wears large sunglasses, but underneath it all Sarah recognizes her facial structure as mirroring her own. She knew that Katja was another clone but the sight is still unnerving. She shakes her head; that makes four clones in less than twenty-four hours. Four clones too many. 

“Katja?” she asks cautiously, trying not to slip up and let her in on the little switch she and Beth have pulled. 

“Yes, of course,” the red haired clone replies sharply in a heavily accented voice. “I have the briefcase with the samples. I was careful, like you said.” She is breathing heavily and Sarah notes the way her breaths rasp in her lungs. She remembers her conversation with Cosima from the night before and wonders if this has to do with the illness they discussed. 

Sarah nods, glancing around for a briefcase and not seeing one. “Wh-where is it?” she asks uncomfortably. Her feeling of being watched is increasing and all she wants is to get this over with and get the briefcase to Cosima so she can be through. 

Katja’s brow furrows and she takes her sunglasses off, looking at Sarah’s face hard. Sarah’s heart drops, sensing that there is something wrong. Something she said has clued Katja into the fact that she isn't Beth. 

“It is in my room,” she says, still searching Sarah’s face. 

“Let’s go get it then,” Sarah responds, turning away from Katja so she will stop looking at her as though she is figuring everything out. She turns the car on and puts it into gear. She doesn't want to waste another minute and let Katja continue to piece things together. Katja grabs her shoulder and Sarah slumps, realizing that it may be too late for that. She squeezes her eyes shut and then turns, meeting Katja’s confused gaze. 

“Just one, I’m a few. No family, too. Who am I?”

Sarah recognizes the little rhyme from the night before at the station. Cosima had spoken it into the phone when they first talked after Sarah had saved Beth. She mentally kicks herself for not asking what the answer was the night before. She hadn't even thought that it might come in handy for meeting Katja today. Katja is staring at her expectantly and all Sarah can force out of her mouth is a highly intelligent sounding “Um.”

“You are not Beth,” the German says, and Sarah tenses in preparation to either defend herself or explain. Her mind is spinning as she tries to decide what to do next, though what she has not factored into the equation is the bullet that suddenly whizzes through the windshield.


End file.
